


Jokes and Colds

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [313]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:54:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4992817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Clint tells lame jokes during an op.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jokes and Colds

**Author's Note:**

> “Barton, what’s your status?”

Clint snapped out of his drowsiness and looked through the scope again. “Nothing so far” His voice sounded a little hoarse and scratchy. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Sir.” 

“Understood.” Phil said through the comm. 

Usually, when they were on a mission, Clint was always at his best but at the moment, this cold was getting to him. It’s not like he’s ever bailed on a mission because of a tiny thing like a cold either. He’s soldiered on tougher things than a stupid cold, so there was no way he was going to pass up on  _this_ mission just because he was ‘technically’ sick. 

It’s Phil’s first mission back after the whole Battle of New York ordeal and Clint has bent over backwards getting the assignment. What? Did you really expect him to just trust some low level agent to get the job done AND protect Phil? Nope, he isn’t even going to risk it. 

In fact, he’s even made it his mission, well, second mission, to make Phil laugh. Just like old times. 

“Hey, sir.” Clint received silence as a reply so he continued, “Why was the tomato blushing?”

Even without looking at Phil through his scope, Clint knew that the Senior Agent had the beginnings of a smile on his face. “Why Barton?”

“Because it saw the salad dressing.” Clint liked that joke, he had a feeling Phil would like it too.

“Radio silence, Barton.” See? Totally nailed it.

“A termite walks into the bar room and asked. ‘Is the bar tender here?’” Clint continued. Clint could now picture Phil raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Two men walk into a bar. You’d think the second one would’ve ducked.”

“Barton.” Phil warned with no real heat to it.

“What do you give an elephant with diarrhea? Lots of Room”

“Okay, that’s just disgusting.” Phil answered. 

Clint laughed. He stopped only because he had to sneeze, Thank god he managed to cover the mic before he did. Phil would’ve sent him straight home. “Here’s another one.” Clint continued. “Why did the squirrel sleep on his stomach? To keep his nuts warm.” 

There was a snort over the comm that was distinctively not Phil and Clint grinned. “See? Ramirez gets my jokes.”

“Don’t drag me into this one, Barton.” Ramirez scolded. 

“Radio silence, both of you.” Phil told them both. 

“Okay, okay. Last one. What did the dog say to the tree?” Clint paused for effect, “Bark.”

“That one was just sad.” Phil commented.

“Hey, fuck you Coulson. That one was gold.”

“Would you agree to his assessment, Agent Ramirez?” Phil asked.

“BRO.” Clint said.

“Like I said to Agent Barton, sir, please leave me out of this.” 

“BRO.” Clint repeated. 

—

The mission had gone well enough - only a minimal amount of things went wrong - that they got to pack up and return to base early. Clint headed straight for Phil’s office and knocked three times before letting himself in. Phil wasn’t inside but Clint figured he could stay a while if he was doing paperwork. 

Clint took out the folded piece of paper he had in his uniform and borrowed a pen from Phil’s desk to start filling out the After Actions when his vision blurred and his eyelids felt heavy. He was getting drowsy again. Any time Clint is still for more than five seconds, the drowsiness comes back. He hated being sick.

Clint was shaken again from the drowsiness because of the door opening. He didn’t have to turn to know that Phil had entered. “Hey, Boss.” Clint greeted, nonchalantly. 

A blanket was thrown over his head and when Clint finally got it out of his face, Phil was already in his chair. “I got you chicken soup.” He placed a Styrofoam cup filled with soup and a pill in front of Clint. “Drink it, and the medicine then wrap yourself in that. Hopefully, after you nap your cold will be gone.” 

“You knew?” Clint had to ask.

“Of course, I did. Now go, drink, then sleep. You can take the couch if you don’t feel like going back to your quarters.” 

Clint smiled and took his offer gratefully.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/131095707796/oh-no-my-weekend-is-booked-solid-i-dont-even)


End file.
